


I've Been Around the Block and I See You Cry a Lot, Can I Walk You Home?

by Toothlesshoodie



Series: Spotify Wrapped Playlist Prompts [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Sad Eddie, Song fic, based on Walk You Home by Sir Chloe, love struck Richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toothlesshoodie/pseuds/Toothlesshoodie
Summary: Richie sees a beautiful boy cry every Thursday but he's always too late to comfort him. That is until he finds him at a party.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Spotify Wrapped Playlist Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568347
Kudos: 75





	I've Been Around the Block and I See You Cry a Lot, Can I Walk You Home?

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from my tumblr (bi-bi-richie) for my spotify prompts! (you can leave a number and a ship and I might write a something something!)

Richie had seen the boy before, he first noticed him when it was nine at night. He just finished a late class that he’d been kicking himself over taking and was eager to get back in his shitty dorm room and just rest for a while. Right as he turned a corner, he saw a boy dressed in an oversized yellow sweater and white jeans sitting on a bus stop bench sobbing his eyes out with nobody to comfort him. At first, Richie only saw him as a crying guy sitting alone at a bus stop but when his head snapped up at the sound of footsteps, Richie was convinced he was some sort of beautiful angel, and he instantly wanted to comfort him. He didn’t get that chance though, quickly after they met eyes, the bus came and the “Sobbing Beauty” (as Richie calls him) climbed on and drove away. Richie wondered for a week if he imagined the whole thing. 

But not long after that night, he walked past the same bus stop again and saw the same boy with the same sobbing face he had seen him with before. But just like last time, he was too late and the bus picked him up and he was gone in a flash. 

This was a continuous cycle. It was killing Richie, and no matter how many times he tried to outsmart God by learning the bus schedule, showing up early, running as fast as he can across the street (he almost got hit), and acting like he’s given up to trick God (it did not work one bit), he never got to speak a single word to the boy. The only thing he knew about him was that he took the 9:15pm bus and he had a rough life, because almost every time he saw him he had been crying. 

Now here he was, sitting in a bathtub at a shitty party with a shot glass in his hand and a dazed but shocked look on his face when he took in Richie’s appearance. All the time he saw him crying at a bus stop, all the things he thought he would say to the Sobbing Beauty, and now he’s at a loss for words. 

So, he starts simple. 

“Hi,” Richie says in a tone that he’s not even sure the other boy can hear. 

The other boy, who Richie assumes is drunk, if not tipsy, stares at him like he’s looking at an angel. Richie thinks it’s the other way around, and now that he’s finally getting to speak to him, he’ll make sure he knows his opinion on that. 

“You’re real,” the boy blurts out, then he starts to slightly smile. “You’re- you’re really real!” 

Richie cracks a fond smile for how adorable he’s starting to find him in a matter of three seconds. “I could say the same thing about you.”

The Sobbing Beauty looks down at his knees, bites his lip and nods his head, then he doesn’t say anything anymore. Richie wonders if he’d say more if he was completely sober, he hopes the boy talks more. But Richie won’t get the chance to find out if he doesn’t talk himself. 

“What’s your name?” Richie asks as he lowers himself to sit on the floor. He closes the door as well, he doesn’t want anyone interrupting this moment for him. 

The boy sniffs, “Eddie… Eddie Kaspbrak. Don’t think I would tell you that sober, though.” He furrows his eyebrows like he’s trying to figure out what sober Eddie would do while Richie is thanking god that sober Eddie has left the building for tonight. 

“Don’t worry,” Richie says, “I’ll give you my name to balance it out.” 

Eddie seems to think it over in his head, then nods in a way that makes his hair flop up and down. “I think that’s okay then.” 

Richie smiles, “I’m Richie. Richie Tozier. I’ve been dying to meet you, y’know?” 

Eddie frowns, “why?” 

Richie shrugs his shoulders, “I dunno. Maybe it’s because I see you every Thursday night- thanks for giving my Thursdays meaning, by the way, I used to hate them but now they’re my favorite- anyway, I see you every Thursday night, you’re beautiful, and I feel like I have to know you or I might die.” 

Eddie’s frown deepens, and Richie worries for a moment that he said something horribly wrong. “You only see me crying,” he mumbles, “that’s not beautiful.” 

“Clearly you’ve never seen yourself cry.” 

Eddie sighs, “I wish that were true.” 

Then his eyes start to fill with tears, tears that Richie had wanted to wipe away so many damn times. The only thing stopping him now is… not wanting to cross a line. 

“Eddie,” Richie says as he stands up, “I’ve been around the block, I’ve seen you cry… a lot. Please let me walk you home.” 

Eddie sniffled and rubbed his nose, his red rimmed eyes meet Richie’s and say he’s beyond confused. 

“You don’t even know me.” He concludes. 

“No,” Richie nods, “but I want to. Even if you’re not interested in me- romantically, that is- I’d still like to know you.” then he extends his hand.

Eddie watches him for a short moment, trying to decide something in his head that Richie desperately hopes pays off. 

“I used to think you were an angel,” Eddie whispers, “and now you want to take me on a date?” He laughs a little to himself, “it’s almost too good to be true.” 

Richie feels his heart clench, not knowing what to make of that, but then he feels a hand wrap around his own. 

“Walk me home, Richie, then we can talk about that date tomorrow.” 

So he does. 


End file.
